


East Deeping

by JaneJHills



Category: Kollektivet (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, East Deeping: the revised edition, F/M, Unrequited Love, regency au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 20:54:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3089189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneJHills/pseuds/JaneJHills
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>May 1813, East Deeping, Suffolk. Your redundant life at Chatley Hall is suddenly shattered by fascinating new neighbours: the Josefsen boys. You immediately take to the younger brother, Fridtjof, and his cousin Jakob, whom you find amiable and amusing. They bring with them adventures and insanity, and for you a new outlook on men. As spring becomes summer, friendship blossoms into romance, but somebody is going to be left behind.</p>
<p>Or, the regency AU that nobody asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	East Deeping

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So this is the revised edition of the original 'East Deeping' that I posted on Wattpad; the 2.0 if you will. (You can still view the original there, I won't be updating it anymore.) I mainly edited it for fluency sake and elaborated a bit more, so it is slightly different. I also changed everything to past tense, which I hate and find really awkward to write, so excuse me for any weird phrasing in that respect. Please also note that I am in no way a historian, so this thing is probably packed with historical inaccuracies. Feel free to inform me of any inconsistencies.
> 
> I have a general idea of where the plot will go, but suggestions are always welcome! I'd love to hear what you guys have to say.
> 
> General guide: (F/N) = first name (L/N) = last name
> 
> Happy reading!

You had always loved May.

It signalled the beginning of numerous sunny days in which you and Matthew, your twin brother, would indulge in long rides on horseback or leisurely strolls through the estate’s extravagant gardens. More often than not, one of you would be able to nick some food off of Mrs Bryers, the old, absent-minded head cook.

At 17, your somewhat progressive mother still considered you too young to marry. Now, this didn’t mean she wasn’t interested in finding young gentlemen to court you, but your sharp mind and unwavering bullheadedness often put any new suitor out of his wits. Mr Talbot had, not a month ago, left the estate sputtering indignantly when you commented on the amount of alcohol he had consumed for the duration of lunch. In your defence, he was extremely dull and had been making incredibly sexist remarks throughout the duration of the afternoon.

Of all the men in the world, you loved your brother the most. He was gentle and kind, and he treated you as an equal rather than a near-useless pet. Matt lived an isolated life and was often bored, so you used him as an excuse to escape the tedium that was embroidery and music lessons.

He would often say to you, “(F/N), the people in our society are so painfully frivolous that I can hardly stand them on a good day.”

He would meet you at the stables, reins in hand, a leather satchel slung over his shoulder, with his signature lopsided grin upon his lips. The duration of the rides were spent discussing philosophy and politics, Matt sometimes relaying to you what his tutor had taught him. Then you’d stop at the far edge of the lake and enjoy preserved pears and cold meats under the shade of an ancient beech tree, the viscous syrup on the pears dripping lazily from your chin. Finally, when the sun had reached just past its highest point, your brother would help you back onto your horse and the two of you would ride again to the house.

It was on one such day in mid-May when, after stabling your horse and climbing the stairs to the back terrace, everything changed. Matthew was acting out a wildly funny story which made you laugh so hard that you began to cry. The two of you flung open Chatley Hall’s huge French doors, laughing to distraction at Matt’s tale. You nearly crashed into your mother.

“(F/N)! Oh, look at you; your hair is a mess!” she exclaimed, hands flying to your wind-mussed hair and rearranging the locks into some semblance of order. “And your dress, all dirty and wrinkled – oh – but we don’t have time to keep them waiting…”

“Them?” you asked as you smoothed out your peach coloured frock. It wasn’t _that_ dirty; it just had a couple inevitable smudges of dirt at the hemline from being outside. And it was slightly damp from the lake water Matthew had splashed on you.

Your mother put some finishing touches on your work and took a step back to look at you. “There is a trio of young gentlemen callers in the drawing room. Apparently they’ve just arrived in from London – they are all very handsome,” she said, nodding approvingly at your corrected appearance. “That’ll do for now. Come. Matthew; I want you there too.” You were left standing there as if frozen in ice as your brother, resigned to his fate, followed your mum down the grand hall and into the drawing room.

“Right,” you said to yourself. “Into the fire.”

Chatley Hall’s drawing room would be called sunny and inviting by almost anyone who stepped foot in it. The walls were painted a rich, light yellow, with crisp white crown mouldings lining the perimeter of the room. Cream coloured silk curtains framed four huge windows that let in brilliant sunlight. The furniture was dark cherry wood and the fabrics were light and opulent. While most would complement the tasteful décor and comment on how happy the room looked, you found the place oppressive. You curtsied to the strange intruders and sat next to your brother on one of the blue and yellow sofas, noting dully how they seemed to blend in with their surroundings.

“My name is Sigurd Josefsen, primary heir of the vast Josefsen estate. This is my younger brother, Fridtjof, and our beloved cousin, Jakob Andersen,” said an awkwardly tall man with murky blue eyes and wild honey brown curls which spill onto his lined forehead. He stood stiffly

Your mother smiled demurely. She seemed to enjoy the fact that three seemingly well-bred bachelors had found their way into her house. “Allow me to formally introduce my eldest, Virginia, and her fiancé Sir Arthur Elridge.” She turns to you. “My second daughter (F/N), and her brother, Matthew.” You nodded politely as she mentioned your name.

The man called Jakob grinned at you, and you looked disdainfully out the window in response.

“How long will you staying at the Deeping Mansion Mr Josefsen?” your mother asked.

“We’re only leasing the place for a year, though if we find country life to be somewhat pleasant, we’ll buy it,” said Sigurd. “Freddy likes the city, but I’m afraid the air there is not quite suited to his health.”

Virginia’s fiancé gave a little smirk. “I am a city man myself Mr Josefsen, and life in the country is much quieter than one first assumes. You’ll have even less privacy than in the city, though. In a small town such as East Deeping, everybody knows everybody else. One can barely keep a secret.”

“Thank you for your warning, Sir Elridge. It will be of great value to us for the duration of our time at Deeping,” Sigurd said. You found yourself irritated at the ugly timbre of his nasal voice and sighed in boredom. Your mother shot you a sharp look in response and Jakob snorted quietly, obviously amused by your interactions.

“Tell me Mr Josefsen, what is your line of work?” Virginia asked.

“Our family owns sizeable plots of land in India and Australia. In fact, Freddy has recently arrived back from touring some of our indigo plantations. He caught s-”

“Sigurd and I make 9.000 a year. Jakob makes 8.000.” the younger Josefsen brother cuts in. “That _is_ what you were trying to pry out of my brother, is it not?” Fridtjof glanced at Sigurd with an expression of plain disinterest upon his brow, though his eyes were pleading and frightened. His tonality was like rich chocolate: deep and full, and his ashy brown hair was cropped closer to the head – a reminder that he had recently been at sea. Though he may turn out to be an absolute bore, the younger Josefsen is at the very least aesthetically pleasing. “Our family has a high standing in both Danish and Norwegian society. We are, to put it plainly, well respected ridiculously wealthy.”

Your mother’s eyes lit up. Wealthy and respectable your family may have been, but you certainly did not command the pinnacle of the social order. A marriage or a good friendship to the enormously affluent Josefsens would give your household a great advance in its societal standing. Therefore, so as to seem graciously detached from any ulterior motives, she asked Fridtjof, “Was the voyage agreeable, Mr Josefsen?”

“It was as enjoyable as having one’s head constantly bombarded with small rocks,” he said sarcastically. “The weather was atrocious and half the company couldn’t seem to fathom the idea of levity. I consequently spent much of my time reading or writing for my own amusement.”

Jakob smiled wryly. “You shouldn’t lie to ladies like that, Fred.” He then turned to you, his beautiful golden hair catching the light of the afternoon sun. “I’ve received more than a few witty letters from my cousin about his adventures on board the boat. They were, according to him, written in the throes of boredom, but I choose to disbelieve his claims… Miss (L/N) looks very interested.” At the mention of your name, your head snaps forward to look at the people in the room. To add insult to injury, Matthew snickered softly next to you.

You frowned both of them but quickly realized that Jakob was giving you a way to escape from this suffocating drawing room. It would be foolish not to take such an opportunity, and though only one spoke actually direct words to you, you found yourself irrevocably fascinated by the two younger men.

“I should be very pleased if Mr Andersen and Mr Josefsen would regale me with the witty stories Mr Andersen has just mentioned. ” you said smoothly. “But it is so hot inside; the gardens would be a much more agreeable temperature.”

“I second Miss (L/N)’s opinion,” said Jakob, standing up. He offered his arm to you. “Shall we?”

Virginia was so appreciative of your positive reaction to the man – _any man_ \- that you could practically feel her jovial mood. She nudged a dozing Arthur into response. Arthur’s head surged up in surprise and he rapidly regained his bearings. “Oh… yes… that sounds wonderful.” He looked at Sigurd. “I am interested to hear more about your business ventures in the colonies…”

You glanced at Jakob, and he again grinned at you – this time in good humour. “The gardens are beautiful this time of year. You arrived just in time,” you remarked offhandedly.


End file.
